


At Least They Had Each Other

by LAStoryWriterAlex



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Jonerys Valentine's Week, Jonerys wedding night, Jonerysvalentines, Prompt 7: Arranged/Fake Marriage Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 22:09:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LAStoryWriterAlex/pseuds/LAStoryWriterAlex
Summary: Dany is ordered by King Robert to wed Ned Stark's bastard son, Jon Snow, as punishment for the crimes her family committed during the Rebellion. Dany resents her betrothal to Jon Snow, spending her whole life cursing his name and dreading the moment when they would become man and wife...that is...until she actually meets him.Written for: Jonerys Valentine Week Day 7: Arranged/Fake Marriage SexFamily Dynamics of this fic inspired by Her Life Her Death by magicmoon111 and Together, We Collide by LustOnMyFingers (both of which I HIGHLY recommend reading as they are awesome!)





	At Least They Had Each Other

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/49702299@N02/40360080442/in/dateposted-public/)

In order to keep from crying, Daenerys decided to be angry. Angry at her soon to be husband whom she had never met, angry at the king for forcing this match upon her to shame her house, angry at her brother Rhaegar for running off with Lyanna Stark and igniting this whole mess in the first place, and angry at her father for giving House Targaryen such a horrible reputation, as if any who bore the name would be just as mad and awful as he was. She didn’t want to marry this Jon Snow, some barbaric Northern bastard whom she was sure would be no better than a wildling. Probably twice her size, wiry beard and untamable hair, weatherbeaten skin because the gods knew how unkind the weather was this far north. Thick accent that would either grate on her nerves or be so foreign to her ears she wouldn’t be able to understand a word he said. And oh gods, the bedding. She dreaded that most of all. Like any good lady she had never lain with another, saving herself for her betrothed, mostly because she was fearful that if she didn’t come to her marriage bed pure, he would be able to tell and it would anger him. But being pure had its downsides and from what all her friends and handmaids had told her, the first time was a dreadfully painful experience. And certainly a Northern brute like this Jon Snow wouldn’t be gentle with her at all.

They were to be married in the Winterfell godswood under the weirwood tree, horribly ugly thing. She had seen it the day before when she arrived, being granted leave to explore the castle as her betrothed was on a hunt with his father and brother. The tree had looked as if it were mocking her. Or pitying her. She couldn’t decide which and both irritated her. _That’s it, just stay mad. If I’m mad, I won’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry._

“My dear, it’s time,” cousin Stannis called. He would be the one to escort her to the godswood and give her away to her betrothed as she had no other family left. Her throat tightened painfully in that moment and she was instantly glad she only had one thing to say during the ceremony because if she had needed to speak more she might not be able to hold herself together. Her handmaiden put the finishing touches on her headpiece, her mother’s old crown, and Dany stood. She might not have been able to call herself _princess_ and she might have to take her husband’s bastard name _Snow,_ but damnit she would look like a princess.

Trembling, she took cousin Stannis’s arm and gripped him tightly as they walked outside. “Now now love, Jon Snow is an honorable man. He will be good to you. Just wait and see,” Stannis murmured as they neared the godswood. “And if he’s not, well, unfortunate things happen to haughty young men all the time,” he patted the pommel of his sword. Dany couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though she appreciated the sentiment. Still, her brother had been described as honorable and he had taken off with Jon Snow’s aunt. Would her betrothed do the same one day? Or would he just whore around like she knew the usurper king did down in King’s Landing? Jon Snow’s father had been described to her as one of the _most_ honorable men in the Seven Kingdoms and yet he had fathered a bastard. What would Dany do if her husband came home one day with another woman’s son? The mere thought of such a slight made her sick to her stomach.

As they approached the small gathering beneath the weirwood tree, Dany got the first glimpse of her soon to be husband. His back was to her as was tradition; grooms weren’t supposed to look at their brides until they stood side by side. He wore a heavy fur cloak, typical formal wear in the north. She could see he had long, dark hair which was haphazardly pulled back into a bun at the back of his head. _Ugh,_ Dany rolled her eyes again. Uncivilized Northern beast for a certainty. His father stood in front of him, Eddard Stark, and he appeared just as she pictured her betrothed to. Long stringy hair that looked as if it hadn’t been brushed ever, creases between his eyebrows probably from frowning so much - Dany couldn’t picture ever having need to smile in a place like this - and puffy skin, more than likely from years of drink. Maybe Ned Stark had been handsome once, many years ago. But he was not now. And this is what her betrothed would look like in just a few years time if he didn’t look like this already. She sighed as she and Stannis reached them beneath the tree. This was the beginning of the end of her life.

Hearing her approach, her betrothed finally turned around to take her hands and Dany was momentarily struck dumb, her breath catching in her throat and mouth hanging agape. _This_ was her betrothed?? _This_ was Jon Snow?? No. No, it couldn’t be possible. The man standing in front of her was… _beautiful._ Now, that was a silly thought. A man being _beautiful._ But Jon Snow was, there was no other way to describe him. Dark eyes that bore into hers making all her insides feel as if they had turned to mush. Pillowy lips that for some reason she suddenly had the urge to kiss. Just the right amount of hair dusting over his upper lip and jaw that made him look more distinguished. It took her a moment to realize she had stopped breathing but as soon as she did, Jon Snow leaned in dangerously close making Dany’s breath catch all over again and her heart slam against her rib cage painfully quickly.

“I hope I am not a disappointment to you, my lady,” he whispered in the softest, sweetest northern lilt. “Though neither of us chose this, I know it was meant as a punishment to you, more than anything.” He pulled away from her just slightly, face apprehensive, almost as if he were expecting her to scream or hit him. He was so open and vulnerable. Perhaps even more so than Dany herself felt.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she looked at the man who would be her husband and she finally realized, all the anxiety, all the fear, all the anger she had felt leading up to this marriage, he had felt it too. How could she have been so stupid? The things she had imagined of him, what could he have possibly been imagining of her? Probably some bitter, spoiled former princess who would loathe him for being a bastard and make his life miserable in exchange for being forced to marry him. Dany was suddenly ashamed of herself for her thoughts toward him all these years.

“Not at all, my lord,” was all she was able to get out, giving him a watery smile. Jon’s eyebrows shot up in hope and he let out a sigh of relief, quickly returning her smile, the new expression making his face, if possible, even more lovely.

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” Ned Stark asked, beginning the ceremony. Dany’s heartbeat picked up pace again as she remembered every eye in the godswood was on her and her betrothed.

“Daenerys Stormborn,” cousin Stannis said in answer, “of the House Targaryen, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” At Stannis’s words, Jon Snow’s face fell again and Dany wondered why.

“Jon Sn—Jon Snow,” he said quietly. “Of House Stark.” And then Dany understood. Another reminder that he was a _bastard._ She thought in that moment that Jon had probably been just as ill-received his whole life because of his name as she had been, for the sins of others neither of them had anything to do with. The thought made her want to wrap him in her arms and let him know it was okay and that she would never judge him for his name as long as he would never judge her for hers. Before coming here this night she felt alone in her punishment and her ostracization. But now she realized, at least they had each other. “Who gives her?” Jon asked and Dany rubbed her thumb over his knuckles in comfort, making him smile at her again. _Oh yes,_ she very much liked that smile.   

“Stannis of House Baratheon, Master of Ships and Lord of Dragonstone who is her cousin.” Stannis gave Dany a quick peck on the cheek and a tight smile before retreating back into the crowd.

“Lady Daenerys,” Ned Stark spoke again. “Do you take this man?” Jon Snow looked at her again, almost as if he were expecting her to say _no._ It made her heart ache for him. She had grown up loved in the Baratheon household though they were not her true family. She wondered if Jon Snow had ever felt loved as she had.

Dany squeezed his hands again reassuringly and smiled. “I take this man.” Jon let out another sigh of relief and Ned prompted them to kneel before the weirwood to silently ask the gods for their blessing. But before Dany could kneel Jon held out a hand to stop her.

“Just a moment, my lady,” he murmured turning to his brother behind him who was holding a small blanket. He shook it out and laid it on the the ground before her. “So you don’t ruin your dress.” It was a good thing she was now expected to kneel and close her eyes because Dany thought she might faint from how painfully sweet her new husband was. Yet again she thought of how silly she had been all these years cursing his name without ever bothering to find out what type of man he was.

After a few moments of Dany silently thanking the gods Jon Snow wasn’t at all what she had expected and asking them that they have a long and happy marriage, both stood. Jon carefully unclasped her Targaryen cloak, handing it to Stannis, then fitted a gray and white one in its place, Stark direwolf snarling on the back. His fingers still on the cloak clasp at the center of her collarbone, Dany expected Jon to lean in and kiss her. That was usually how wedding ceremonies were concluded. But he just stood there, chest heaving, not quite looking her in the eye. She watched him grit his teeth, jaw set in determination and he leaned in but still didn’t touch his lips to hers.

“May I kiss you, my lady?” Jon whispered and Dany thought her knees would give way from how dizzying it felt to have him so near. _Oh Gods,_ yes of course he could kiss her! She gave him the smallest of nods and slid her hands up his chest to steady herself as her eyelids fluttered closed and he leaned in.

Jon wrapped his arms around her waist, under the cloak and pulled her to him, bringing his lips to hers, a simple touch that made Dany’s head spin. His soft full lips lightly exploring hers. His smell, so masculine and intoxicating, leather and evergreens and fresh rain and red wine. A part of her almost wanted to giggle. She too had indulged in a cup or three before the ceremony. Somehow her hands found their way to the soft curls at the base of his neck and Jon’s tongue slipped into her mouth to deepen the kiss. Dany let out a little whimper, unable to stop herself. Her belly clenched with delight and anticipation of more and her skin exploded with heat - or was that his body radiating warmth? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t know much in that moment, only that she didn’t want to pull away from him and he didn’t seem to want to pull away from her so they didn’t, lips continuing to caress each others, almost familiarly.

However when a stern _hmm hmm_ sounded from beside them, the two broke apart, eyes struggling to focus, cheeks flaming red with embarrassment. As she and Jon walked away hand in hand, their guests clapping politely, she thought she heard cousin Stannis say something about _Robert’s plan to make her miserable clearly failed._ Dany flushed even more, feeling the heat spread to her neck and down, making her sweat.

But when everyone began to leave the godswood behind them and made their way to the great hall for the feast, Dany knew she needed to talk to Jon alone. She whispered as much to him and though his eyes had gone wide with what she assumed was panic, he nodded and led her to an empty archway, away from the crowd and prying eyes.

“Everything alright, my lady?” he asked her apprehensively as if believing _this_ would be the moment when she would show her true colors and be horrible to him, even after their kiss.

“Jon I—I wanted to apologize,” Dany began, not quite knowing how to word this but saying what felt right in the moment. “All my life I knew I would grow up to marry you and—and up until I saw you in the godswood, I was dreading it. I used to think I would hate you and I resented you for this betrothal even though you had nothing more to do with it than I did. I just—I want you to know that I was wrong. And I think—I think we could be very happy together. If we’re honest with each other. And we...try.” The whole time she spoke, Dany couldn’t stop playing with his hands, entwining her fingers with his, softly caressing the thin skin of his wrists. She didn’t want to stop touching him.

“You have no idea how much of a relief it is to hear you say that,” Jon breathed, leaning in and touching his forehead to hers, hand coming up to caress her cheek. “I _was_ worried you would hate me.” They both chuckled for a moment, Dany moving a hand to his face. _Gods his lips were so perfect._ She wanted those lips on her. No. She wanted more than his lips. Everything was so confused and strange and new but she couldn’t stop the sparks and sensations tormenting her body, begging her to let him take her.

“My lady, may I—” but she silenced him and answered his unfinished question with a kiss, this time knowing no one was around so they could explore as much as they wished and _yes_ she very much wanted to explore Jon Snow. His lips were gentle yet demanding, tongue dancing with hers as if they had done this a thousand times before. Dany couldn’t describe this feeling, she just knew she needed him. He was so handsome and his lips so sweet, both in the things they said and the way they felt against hers.

His embrace turned her insides molten, the muscles in her belly clenching deliciously again, everything in her body telling her to get his clothes off so she could touch him and kiss him and lick him everywhere. Backing her up against the stone wall and pressing his body flush against hers, Jon growled and ground his hips into Dany’s and she could feel his very prominent and very eager erection straining against his trousers, begging to be sheathed inside her, Jon’s thoughts clearly the same as Dany’s own. She didn’t care they should be attending their wedding feast. She didn’t care she had met her now husband only a few minutes before. She wanted him and she wanted him _now._

The pillowy lips that had so thoroughly kissed and explored her mouth were now traveling south to pay special attention to her neck and a spot behind her ear they both discovered could make her moan out loud when he ran his tongue along it. Every new touch and caress brought Dany down deeper into the darkness, a place of unspoken desires, improper thoughts, and carnal needs. Her breeches clung to the dampness of her mound in an uncomfortable and frustrating way. Even when she pressed her hips out against his and gripped his shapely behind to bring him closer still, it did little to gentle the ache there.

But her new husband seemed to know exactly what she needed and, meeting her lips with his again, slipped a hand between them and began rubbing the spot at the apex of her thighs. When that wasn’t enough, Jon rucked up her skirts and fondled the spot again, Dany’s arousal apparent through the thin material of her breeches. Dany only encouraged his indecent behavior and pushed her hips harder against his hand. Jon let out a groan and reached the other hand down to pull at her ties, giving Dany only a slight moment of pause. No man had ever touched her so intimately but then again, this was her now husband and she wanted him desperately. He could touch her anyway he pleased and Jon did, fingers sliding confidently down into her breeches, skimming past her silver curls and finding her pink folds slick and ready for him. He grunted against her mouth, Dany’s belly clenching again at the erotic sound, then he found her nub and began circling it, making her pant. _How was he so very good at this?_ Dany wondered vaguely. And when his fingers dipped lower and he thrust into her, she threw her head back and cried out, the sound echoing off the stone walls of the empty hallway. Jon quickly silenced her with a kiss and withdrew his hand, breathing hard.

“I’m sorry my lady,” he rasped breaking away from her, voice deep and thick with desire. “I shouldn’t have...we...the feast,” he got out, face still dangerously close to Dany’s and hands still gripping her to him.

“I don’t want to go to the feast,” Dany admitted breathlessly. Jon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I want you to take me to your room. _Our_ room,” she added in a whisper, giving his bottom a firm squeeze and leaning in to suck at his neck. Jon whimpered, the sound of surrender making Dany smile. “Make me your wife Jon, truly,” she begged, not sure she could even wait that long and half contemplating just having him pull up her skirts and taking her right there. “Please Jon,” she went on when he did nothing to move them somewhere more private. “Make love to me.” Jon groaned again, lips pressing against hers in a searing kiss and took her hands, beginning to pull her away from the wall and back somewhere she hoped had a comfortable bed.

 _“Jon? Lady Daenerys?”_ someone called and the two immediately stopped.

 _“Oh fuck,”_ Jon swore, his crude curse making Dany smile _._ Jon looked down at her apologetically. _My brother,_ he mouthed. She let out a shaky sigh and nodded, smoothing her hand over her hair and dress so as not to look as if they had just been in a very passionate embrace.

“We’re here Robb,” Jon called. “Just wanted a moment to talk alone after the ceremony.”

“Don’t blame you,” Robb said rounding the corner. “Half the hall’s already drunk.” He smiled at Dany and clasped one of her hands in his, bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss. “I’m pleased to have another sister,” he told her genuinely and Dany’s heart clenched. All her preconceived notions about the North being a cold, brutal, uncaring place had been dead wrong. “He’s a good man, my brother, even if he is a bit on the small side.” She heard Jon inhale sharply through his nostrils and she stifled a laugh. “I trust you’ll take good care of him, as he will you.”

“You have my word, brother,” Dany curtsied and Robb gave a bow, waiting to lead them back to the feast. Jon and Daenerys had no choice but to follow him, both walking with an incredibly uncomfortable ache between their thighs.

 

Dinner was a lively and raucous affair, quite the contrast to the subdued feasts Dany had attended on Dragonstone. It seemed when Northerners had an excuse to celebrate, they didn’t at all hold back. And it seemed the later it became, the more wild the party grew. Whereas on Dragonstone the late hour would encourage guests to turn in, here in the north it only seemed to egg them on. More eating, more singing, more dancing and certainly, more drinking. Yet Dany’s attention was only half on the party and the guests who came up to congratulate them.

It was difficult for her and Jon to keep their hands off each other throughout the feast, both only nibbling at their food, hands sliding up and down each other’s thighs under the table, caressing each other’s backs, arms, anything they could get their hands on really and get away with in such a crowded hall.   

Every time Jon’s face was a mere inch from hers, Dany had the urge to kiss him again but that would not be proper in such a setting. When she began to get seriously hot and bothered and frustrated, Dany rested her hand on Jon’s thigh again, this time sliding it all the way up to where his legs met, her hand mercifully hidden by the table cloth. Jon’s eyes grew wide and he stared down at her, his expression somewhere between hesitant and pleased at how boldly she was touching him. She gave a firm rub to the bulge in his trousers and his eyes darkened in response. How long would they have to keep this up? Dany wanted to have him _now._

Her husband rested his own hand on top of hers, locking their fingers together and pulling them up to his lips for a chaste kiss. _Please,_ Dany begged him with her eyes and Jon, seeming to get the hint, surveyed the room looking for an escape route, but let out a frustrated sigh at what he saw. “What’s the matter?” she leaned in to whisper. Jon turned to her, jaw clenched.

“They shouldn’t be getting that drunk,” he got out nodding to his father’s bannermen. “Soon they’ll insist on the bedding ceremony and I don’t want—I don’t want men that drunk handling you.” He breathed heavily through his nostrils and Dany couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face then. He had been her husband for all of a couple hours and already he was so protective over her. She didn’t think she could have asked for a better man to marry.

“I have an idea,” Dany whispered conspiratorially and Jon met her gaze, eyebrows creased in suspicion. She quickly relayed her plan in his ear and Jon’s face split into an amused smile and he nodded.

Dany then stood on falsely wobbly legs and giggled, purposefully knocking over her wine glass in the process as Jon caught her arm to “prevent” her from falling over. “Um, Lady Margaery,” he called down the table to where she sat next to Robb. “Would you be so kind as to escort my wife to the privy? She’s a bit unbalanced at the moment.” To drive his point home, Dany stumbled and fell into Jon’s lap, wiggling her behind against him just a little and giving him a quick wink before grasping Margaery’s helpful hand to pull herself up. A few lords watched her leave, snickering to themselves at the spectacle of the drunken disgraced princess, but Dany didn’t care. Let them think she had had too many cups of wine.

She put up the show until she and Margaery were out of sight of the great hall and then the brunette beauty turned to her with a smirk fixed on her face. “Well done. I trust you’ll show me the same courtesy when Robb and I wed next month.” Dany giggled.

]\“You don’t even need to ask. _Sister.”_ Dany gave her a warm hug and looked up and down the hallway. “But actually, I do need help finding Jon’s room. We were to meet there but I have no idea where it is.” Margaery laughed and patted her arm, leading her to the keep.

“For this being a fixed marriage,” Margaery began as they walked, “You two seem quite suited to each other.”

Dany blushed, thinking back to their little tryst right after the ceremony. “He’s not what I expected,” she admitted.

“Oh I know!” Margaery exclaimed. “When grandmother informed me I’d be marrying the Lord of Winterfell’s son and heir I thought I was going to come here to find some hulking, smelly, savage!”

“That’s what I thought!” Dany giggled, her face alight with amusement. Not only was Daenerys glad Jon and the North hadn’t been at all what she first thought they would be, she was also immensely glad to have another Southern lady here with her who would soon be her sister by marriage. “Imagine my pleasant surprise.”

“And who cares if he’s a bastard,” Margaery said of Jon dismissively. “He’s too beautiful for that to matter. Had you not been betrothed to him I would have run off with him myself.” Dany’s eyes grew wide and an emotion she wasn’t quite familiar with pursed her lips and ground her teeth. _Jealousy._ “Oh don’t worry,” Margaery chuckled and patted Dany’s arm again. “The last few months being here I have grown to love Robb and I couldn’t be happier we’re marrying.” Dany let out a nervous little laugh, embarrassed she had gotten so territorial over her new husband so quickly. “Jon is a dear though. He’ll make you very happy. Aside from the younger siblings and Robb and I, I don’t think anyone’s ever shown him much affection or attention because he’s a bastard. Poor thing.”

“Any advice when it comes to Jon?” Dany asked as they approached his chamber. Margaery thought for a moment.

“Mmm not so much advice. But, well you’ve probably already guessed he’s a bit on the shy side.” Dany held back a snort. Jon Snow may have appeared shy in the godswood but his body told her otherwise. Margaery went on. “But when he opens up and gets comfortable with you, he’s very funny. He doesn’t talk much but, oh I don’t know, it’s like there’s always something bubbling under the surface with that one. I imagine that’s what your lingering kiss in the godswood was all about,” Margaery said slyly, knowingly. Dany blushed crimson again. The brunette kissed her sweetly on the cheek.

“Goodnight dear sister. And don’t be afraid to take charge once he finds a way to escape the wedding feast. Jon doesn’t at all mind the idea of powerful women. He had a sword made for his little sister Arya, did you know? Quite sweet of him. Anyway, have fun.” With a final wink, and Daenerys’s face inflamed yet again at the idea of _taking charge_ in the bedroom, Margaery was off back to the great hall and Dany pushed open the door to Jon’s chambers with a trembling hand and gasped.

There were candles lit everywhere, a warm fire crackling in the hearth, and rose petals littering the bed. If she hadn’t already warmed to her new husband, Dany thought this might have done the trick. _Yes,_ Jon Snow was going to make her his several times tonight. While she waited for him, Dany slipped off her boots and roamed around his room, fingers lightly grazing over ink stains on his desk, the few books he had stacked on his shelves, a needlework of a white wolf on gray cloth she was sure must have been this _Ghost_ cousin Stannis had told her about, Jon’s pet direwolf.

The minutes dragged on and Dany found herself growing restless, her heartbeat picking up speed the longer she sat in his room alone. Jon was a good man, or at least, his kisses made him seem like one. He would be gentle with her. Thinking back to their embrace under the archway, she wondered again how he had been so good at _everything._ Had he had someone before? Would this not be his first time, as it would be hers? Weighing how such a truth would make her feel, Dany realized it didn’t matter now. He was married to her. He belonged to her and no other woman. And besides, if he had been with someone else, it certainly seemed he had learned a few useful tricks. Just remembering the way he felt hot and hard up against her made her long for him.

Yet he still hadn’t come to her. She wanted him here, in the bed, in her, right now. Frustrated, Dany unwound the complicated braid from her mother’s crown and carefully laid it on Jon’s desk atop a few pieces of clean parchment. She bent over and shook out her hair so it was wavy and a little wild - Jon would be able to run his fingers through it now at least. When he _still_ hadn’t appeared, she decided to be brave and start on the laces of her gown. She began slowly, hoping he would enter the room while she was in the process of undressing but there was no sound of footsteps coming down the hall so she slipped out of her dress and draped it over his desk chair, then her breeches, leaving her in only her slip. She didn’t want to take that off yet, in case there were prying eyes in the hallway when he stepped inside.

So, waiting in her simple silk slip, Dany lay on the fur rug by the fire and recalled their earlier kisses and caresses. Tentatively she slid a hand between her thighs and felt the slickness there. He had made her feel good, driven her wild with the way he touched her. She knew when he really took her it would likely hurt but if he could just rub her like that during, Dany was sure she wouldn’t mind a little bit of pain.

Finally, mercifully, there came a tentative knock on the wooden door. She smiled to herself, it was _his_ bedchamber after all. She took one final moment to adjust herself and take in a deep, steadying breath before opening the door.

The shadowy face of her husband and the lascivious expression he wore as his figure framed the doorway would have been enough to make her wet between the thighs if her arousal wasn’t already sticking to them.

“My lady you—”

“Dany. You can call me Dany, if it please you,” she told him quietly as he entered the room, closing and bolting the door behind him. Arms reaching out to grip her waist, Jon backed her into the stone wall, eyes hooded with desire.

“Would it please _you_ for me to call you Dany?” he asked her, face inching ever closer.

She smiled. “Yes, it would.”

“Then Dany…” His hands roamed up from her waist to her arms, fingers lightly tickling her. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, and planted a chaste yet completely disarming kiss to her cheek. “When I first laid eyes on you in the godswood, I thought I was going to faint.” A kiss to the other cheek. Dany smiled weakly, not quite sure why she felt so shy now when they had been so passionate and uninhibited before they were forced to follow Jon’s brother Robb to the feast.  

“So,” he began with a sly smile on his face. “How should we spend our first night as man and wife?”

Dany gave her head the slightest of shakes. He wanted to hear her say it and right now, she was too roused to play games with him so she said it. “Jon Snow, it is a husbands duty to make love to his wife on their wedding night. And I expect you to fulfill that duty. As many times as you’re able.” She wrapped her arms around him then, mouth eagerly seeking his and he gave up his cool and unaffected façade, hands clumsily feeling along her thighs, trying to find the right grip in order to lift her, but Dany eased his efforts and leapt into his arms, legs tightening around his hips as he carried her to the bed and fell back onto it with her.

They broke apart briefly so he could take off the layers of decorated armor and leather, Dany doing all she could to help him but really just fumbling with all the buckles and ties just as much as he was. But finally, together, they worked him down until he was just in a soft tunic and trousers, and Jon crawled up over her, pushing her slip up her hips, and nestling himself between her thighs. As their mouths tore at each other again, his pelvis ground into hers making Dany whimper. She wasn’t sure if it calmed or further flamed the ache there but she knew she didn’t want him to stop. It struck her again how, hours ago, they had been strangers, Dany resenting the very thought of her betrothed, and now she wanted nothing more than for him thrust himself inside her.

 _Gods,_ it was so good, he felt so good, this man, her husband. _Oh yes, oh yes,_ was the only coherent thought Dany could fathom. He tugged the straps of her slip roughly down her shoulders and immediately greeted her exposed breasts with his mouth, suckling at her hungrily, making her back arch, wanting nothing more than for him to suck harder. _“Jon, please,”_ she breathed, not quite sure what she was begging for but just knowing she needed _more._ More of him, more of that mouth, those hands, that gloriously hard cock hiding underneath his trousers _._

At her words he released her and sat back on his heels, yanking his tunic over his head and pulling her slip down and off, tossing both pieces of clothing to the floor. Dany sat up and worked to unlace the ties on his trousers, the laces getting tangled once but she yanked until they pulled loose and Jon hurriedly shoved them down, his cock finally springing free. _Oh please, oh please,_ Dany thought, crushing her lips to his once more and pulling him on top of her.

Jon slid his cock up and down her folds, the length of him getting soaked by her arousal, but he didn’t enter her yet, instead he dragged his lips down her neck, then down her chest, briefly paying special attention to each breast once more, then down to her navel tongue darting out teasingly, and then finally to the small patch of silver curls at the apex of her thighs.

“What are—” Jon chose to answer her unfinished question with action and leaned in to slide his tongue between her dripping lower lips making Dany cry out in both surprise and pleasure. _His mouth, his mouth, he was using his mouth to...Ohhh!_ Dany couldn’t think straight. The sensations he was creating with his tongue, how was this possible? How could he make her feel so good?

Bravely, Dany opened her eyes to watch and the sight that greeted her was almost enough to send her over the edge. His eyes were closed but brows tipped inward like he was savoring the taste of her, mouth clamped over her nub, sucking like he had at her breast. But she wasn’t the only one affected by his ministrations; glancing further down, she noticed Jon’s hips circling the mattress in an attempt to give himself some relief and _ohh_ she couldn’t wait for him to do that to her. But his mouth, the way he went about it, it was too much, too good. _“A...a little lighter,”_ Dany breathed. _“Lighter but quicker. An-and use your hands.”_ Jon did as she asked, gentling his licks, his eyes springing open to lock with hers. _Ohhh,_ she almost could have come from that look alone. He gave her a smug smile and closed his eyes again, letting go of her with one hand and thrusting into her and Dany’s eyes clamped shut once more as she whined and cried. But it was the noises Jon started making that were her undoing. Humming and growling into her as he devoured her, sounding like a territorial wolf with a fresh kill, warning others to stay away but also showing just how much he enjoyed his meal. Jon picked up his pace even more, sucking at her harder, finger thrusting into her quicker, and Dany could feel the climax coming, her toes beginning to tingle, the blood in her veins starting to sing, and then Dany was singing too, but her song only contained a single word that she repeated over and over and over again. _“Jon, Jon, Jon, oh Jon, Jon, Jonnnnn!”_ she cried, her fingers gripping the sheet under her and she curled forward, chin almost touching her chest, knees jerking back as she fell over the edge, her body awash with pleasant tingles and heat.

When Dany caught her breath and flopped back into the mattress, Jon settled next to her on his side, watching her closely, eyes hooded heavily with desire. He brought up a hand and she could see his fingers coated with her arousal, and he slipped them into his mouth, eyes locked with hers. Dany’s breath hitched and her cunt pulsed watching him lick her juices off of him. Without thinking, Dany leaned into him, her mouth open and tongue darting forward, silently asking him for a taste. Jon let out a shaky breath as he obliged, sliding his fingers between her lips and Dany sucked them gently, delighting in the way they tasted and the dark look Jon gave her, watching, as he pumped his fingers back and forth as Dany imagined he would do with his cock.

Once she had licked his fingers clean Jon took her mouth with his again, teeth nipping her lips, hands tugging at her hair to show her just how much he wanted her. But again, just when Dany thought he would finally take her, he broke away again, breathing hard, turning to fumble with something in his nightstand.

“What are you doing?” Dany asked sitting up and placing open mouthed kisses to his back and shoulders, hands roaming all over his chest, willing him to come back to her.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasped, turning back to her and taking her face delicately between his hands.

Dany smiled. “You’ve already made me feel so amazing. It’s fine—”

“It is _not_ fine,” Jon growled, kissing her roughly. “Dany, no matter what, I will always be a bastard. And one day, you may begin to resent that, resent me, possibly even resent our children for it.” Dany opened her mouth to protest but he pressed on. “And if you do, if anything in those moments, I want you to remember this. I want you to think about how I’ve made you feel, what I can do to you, how I touch you.” As he spoke, one of his hands slid down her body, cupping her breast, pulling at the nipple, gliding down further past those silver curls and rubbing at her wetness. “Just me, and no one else. I never want to hurt you. I want to make you feel good, I want to make you _come,”_ he whispered. _Ohh my,_ Dany thought, closing her eyes again as his lips found hers and he pushed her back into the bed. After a moment he reached over and fumbled with a small glass bottle on his nightstand, pouring what Dany realized was a pleasantly sweet smelling oil onto his hand. As he rubbed it on his cock, Dany blushed and looked up at the ceiling, unable to watch his hand sliding up and down his rigid length. _Had he thought of everything?_

Jon spread a little of the oil on Dany then settled himself over her again, Dany watching him expectantly. Jon smirked. “You know, we don’t have to consummate our marriage tonight. We can wait, save it for another time, if you’d like.” Dany huffed but was unable to stop the grin that lit up her face.

“Stop teasing or you’re going to make your new wife incredibly frustrated,” she warned, wrapping her arms about his neck, pulling him close to kiss him.

“Well now, I wouldn’t want to do that,” Jon mumbled, and, with his lips firmly attached to hers, he pushed inside her in one smooth, achingly exquisite thrust.

 _“Oh fuck,”_ Jon grunted, mouth breaking away from hers, and Dany couldn’t help but agree, crying out at the same time and smothering her face in his shoulder. It was...it was…Dany couldn’t decide what it felt like and once Jon started thrusting slowly in and out of her, she couldn’t think straight either. As he moved, Dany could hear the little wet sounds of flesh against flesh mingling with her and Jon’s groans. It was so... _erotic._

Nothing about any of it felt unfamiliar, Dany’s hand having been very practiced at pleasuring herself. But with Jon everything was just _more._ _Thicker, longer, hotter, wetter._ All that coupled with a whole other person experiencing it with her at the same time. It was entirely overwhelming but Dany couldn’t spare a single thought for any of that as her only focus was on Jon, his body, his movements, the lovely things he whispered in her ear between thrusts. _So good Dany, so sweet. My wife. My princess. My_ _queen_ _._

Jon experimented with different thrusts, searching for one that made Dany moan loudest and settling to a rhythm when he found it, kissing her neck, the tops of her breasts, her lips, her cheeks, licking the curve of her ear….Dany’s legs curled around Jon’s hips, pulling him further into her, needing all of him. Jon twined their fingers together and brought both her arms up above her head, making her feel trapped under him, but she loved that too. The surrender of it, the serenity of it... _oh gods, yes, yess, yessss…_

Dany could barely catch her breath, each inhale countered by Jon’s thrusts forcing her to cry out again. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, her mind going blank, everything tingling, everything tightening, Jon pulled up to look at her, his nose almost touching hers. His eyes were so dark, almost black, fathomless, but familiar too, as if they had been calling to her over some great distance, as if she were meant to get lost in them, lost in him. He let go of her hands, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, anchoring himself to thrust harder, deeper. And all Dany could do was dig her fingernails into his back and clench her eyes shut as she let go, her teeth finding the skin of his neck to muffle her cries as wave after wave washed over her. Jon sped up his thrusts, hooking a hand under her knee for a different angle and moments later, his whole body shuddered with his release, Dany laying under him in awe as she felt his cock twitch, spilling his seed inside her.

They lay there, wrapped up in each other for several long moments, neither speaking, both trying to get their ragged breathing under control. Now that it was over, Dany’s thoughts began to wander, finally able to concentrate again. She was _married,_ the man lying on top of her, sweetly kissing her neck and running his fingers lightly over her skin was her _husband._ It was all so strange and yet, something about being there with Jon made her feel safe, comforted, at peace.

Finally letting her eyes flutter open, Dany’s gaze was immediately met and she wondered just how long Jon had been staring at her. “Are you alright?” he asked her quietly, fingers playing in her now knotted hair.

“Perfect,” she whispered with a smile.

Jon laughed. “Well it certainly sounded like you enjoyed yourself. I was just making sure.” Dany leaned in and kissed him again, missing the way his lips felt on hers. “I think we’re going to be very happy together Dany,” he whispered, nuzzling her nose with his own.

“Me too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes yes yes I will return to GSGW and ATS this week! Just wanted to get this one out as I had the idea in my head long before the prompts for Jonerys Valentine's Week came out. 
> 
> Q&A  
> What's with Jon not watching Dany approach the weir wood? - Based on British royal tradition (I think)...like how William didn't watch Kate walk down the aisle.  
> Why does Dany go from dreading Jon to wanting to sleep with him so quickly? - Because she had been full of adrenaline before and when she saw him that adrenaline turned to lust and he was her husband after all and they are both horny teenagers.  
> Will you write more? - Hah, perhaps, if I get enough love on this one, I could be tempted to turn it into a two-or-three-shot fic. But that would be after GSGW is finished.  
> Do you like comments? - Yes, yes I do. :D


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